Love to Hate You: Three's a Crowd

Chapter Seventeen - Procrastination

After Christmas came New Year, and the New Year meant January and Mattie's reconciliation with her father. She'd planned it carefully with Rafe, agreeing that they'd wait until the twelfth day of Christmas so that the festivities were well and truly over, so that the boys were back at school, and she could focus all her attention on sucking up to her father whilst still holding her own ground. She knew she'd have to apologise and be contrite, even though Rafe assured her that she'd never been at fault. Peter Johnston was too stubborn to make the first move, to admit to wrong-doing. She'd have to knock on his door full of remorse, to coax and cajole. She'd have to make promises of support, without sounding sanctimonious or judgemental. At least, she suspected that we would.

Secretly, she hoped to be welcomed with open arms; that he'd missed her and wanted to reconcile just as much as she did. That his silence hadn't been due to resentment or a lack of care, but due to awkwardness or the simple inability to make the first move. Her secret wish was, of course, well-known to Rafe despite her never having voiced it. And because she never spoke of it, Rafe was never forced to lie and tell her that it very well might be the case.

His personal opinion was that without Mattie's financial assistance, without using her as a proverbial doormat, she was of little interest to her father. Rafe feared that nothing good could come from their reconciliation, and yet he knew she needed to try, lest she live a life full of regret and unanswered questions. He tried to be supportive of her – in spite of his own misgivings – and although he made a real effort, it was difficult not to allow excuses to arise which would put off their first meeting.

'We can't this weekend,' Rafe said, in early January. 'Not with Isaac being so poorly.' The infant had picked up kennel cough the moment he'd returned to the farm – otherwise known as his pricey public school – and he'd been coughing and sneezing, snotting and wheezing about their house for the past three days. He had a temperature, dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, sore nose and lips from snot, and made constant whining noises whenever his frequent bouts of crying abated.

'I know he's unwell, but he's not at death's door. Your Mum would watch him.'

'But she's old. I'm not going to ask her to come and sit with him so that she can catch whatever he has. It wouldn't be fair.' And it was a genuine concern. Ramona Paxton was probably approaching seventy-five, although no one seemed quite sure of her true age. Rafe had no desire to risk his mother's health. And yet, it was just a cold, and Ramona's constitution was robust.

'You can watch the boys, then. I'll go by myself,' Mattie told him. But no; that was not allowed.

'You will not!' he scoffed. 'We've agreed you won't go without me. Not until we know that he can be trusted.' Again, a valid concern. The man had been violent towards her, after all. Still, Isaac's illness was convenient. The timing was – to Rafe's mind – ideal.

'I can't this weekend,' Rafe said. 'I won't be back from the Edinburgh office until the small hours, and I'll be exhausted. Then I'll need to do all the prep work ready for my meeting with Chris and Lydia on Monday morning. You know I've got that conference call after lunch, and the three of us need to have everything agreed beforehand.' It was no lie. Rafe was going to be in the Edinburgh office at the end of the week. He wouldn't get back until the middle of the night, and he would have a great deal of work to get done that weekend. Monday's meetings and conference calls were important, but the timing had worked out rather nicely. For Rafe, who did not like Peter Johnston one jot.

'I know you'll be busy, but you can't work all weekend,' Mattie reasoned. 'It's not practical. We could go up to see Dad – just for a little while – and have lunch or dinner. It'd be a nice break from work.'